


Amar la trama más que el desenlace

by foldingcranes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (slight) Body horror, M/M, Post-Recall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 14:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes
Summary: "I missed you more than I miss being alive, can you believe that shit?”(A reunion.)





	Amar la trama más que el desenlace

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgZBKNdo8gs) by Jorge Drexler, and it can be translated as "to love the story more than the ending."

“You sound like Darth Vader,” Reaper says, not without a hint of pettiness. Jack laughs gruffly, and taps the edge of his visor with his knuckles.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“And _where_ the fuck is your nose?” Reaper paws all over 76’s face, like some kind of overeager dog, and Jack can’t help but laugh at him again.

“It left me. I guess I couldn’t be the pretty one forever. You’re the Beauty to my Beast now.”

“Oh my god _Jack_ , shut the fuck up.”

Jack indulges him, and stays surprisingly silent. Reaper can sense the shift between them, and there’s a hollow ache in the middle of his chest waiting to come out and swallow him whole until his skin is turned upside down, and the man he used to be gets spit out from his ribs, along with memories of better things and better times and feelings he’d rather wouldn’t experience anymore.

“I missed you,” he sighs, as if admitting that fact pained him. “You fucked up royally, and God knows you’re an incompetent bastard, but I still missed you. I missed you more than I miss being alive, can you believe that shit?”

 _(I can_ , Jack thinks. _I died too, don’t you see?)_

Instead, “ _Gabe_. I’m sorry,” Jack lets out, hands going at his own hair, pulling at the strands like an old, nervous habit. “I’m sorry– I thought I could handle it. I thought I could be like you. Not a tool.

But I was. I _was_ a tool, and I let them step all over us.”

( _They used me_ , he bites back. _They used me and I let them._

_I’d have been happy to stay behind you. I’d have been happy to keep following you. I should’ve stayed as your attack dog, always loyal. Always ready._

Jack knows better than to let it all out.)

“You did,” Gabriel’s all smoke and movement, an endless shadow in the death of night. “But, hey, I didn’t play my cards right and look at it, look at how we ended. I didn’t trust you at the end, and you sure didn’t trust me before that and now we’re the world’s saddest joke, Sunshine.”

Jack nods, guilty at the relief that washes over him and pours over his shoulders like a soothing balm. He takes his visor off, and stares at the blur that is Gabriel with pitiful, faded eyes. “I wish we could go back.” Gabriel can only stand still, and feel his heart clench at that kind of sentiment. He, too, longs for golden days, for small pieces of happiness nestled on the oasis of war and gunpowder.

Sentimental fools.

“Does… does it hurt? Being like that?”

“I’m kind of numb, actually,” Gabriel rasps, his gaze fixed on the mess that’s left of Jack’s face. He’s quiet, and slowly reaches towards Gabriel.

It takes him a moment to realize that he’s aiming to grasp his hand, that Jack’s tentative.

He meets him in the middle and doesn’t pull away.

“Your face hurts, old man?”

“Yeah. Breathing’s a pain, too. I guess we’ve gotten pretty old.”

Gabriel snorts. “Well, aren’t we nicely fucked up?”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic also has a [tumblr post](http://countingcranes.tumblr.com/post/160720397257/amar-la-trama-m%C3%A1s-que-el-desenlace).


End file.
